It was the following morning, and everyone was gathered together.
Ash had spoken with Sunny after he'd talked with Kai and reached some kind of agreement to obtain memories from the Brilliant Castle. The details of the deal didn't matter much to him—that was their business—but the fact that Sunny was back, even temporarily, was enough.
Now, sitting in his usual spot by the broken window of the stone house, Ash watched the ruins of the Dark City. His yellow eyes traced the empty streets, the crumbling buildings, the shadows that moved at the edges of his perception. The abominations were out there, in the distance, waiting. Always waiting.
It was strange how stillness could be so threatening.
Ash summoned his runes and read, letting the words float before his eyes like stars in a dark sky.
---
Name: Ashfall
True Name: Dream of Oblivion
Rank: Sleeper
Aspect: Ghost
Aspect Rank: Divine
Class: Monster
Soul Cores: [2/7]
Soul Fragments: [13/2000]
Aspect Ability: [Soul Guide]
Innate Ability: [Guidance]
Attributes: [Nothing] [Blessing of Nothing] [Spark of Divinity] [Shadows]
Memories: [Nebulous Bow] [Cloak of Mist] [Sword of Seven] [Infinite Spring] [Mortal Arrow] [Ocarina of Calm] [Pale Needle] [Zenith Fragment] [Dawn Fragment] [Twilight Fragment] [Weaver's Mask]
Echoes: [Black Steel Crow] [Black Knight]
Flaw: [Mercy]
---
Ash smiled slightly at the progress he'd made in just a few months of hard work. Two soul cores. Two fragments of a Divine crown. A mask with the power to change his appearance. Two echoes, one of them a warrior who had faced a fallen devil.
Not bad for someone who had started with nothing but a pebble and a desire to survive.
His fingers traced through the air, dismissing the runes. On track to obtain his third core. Demon rank. If he kept this pace, it would only take him around eight or ten months to reach it.
Ten months.
It seemed like a long time, but in the Shadow Realm, time was a currency you always lost. Every day was a struggle, every night a risk. Ten months was an eternity. Or a sigh. It depended on how many of your friends were still alive at the end.
Now that he had the fragments in his possession, the only thing left was to eliminate the Brilliant Lord.
Gunlaug.
Ash had seen the king of the Dark City only once, from a distance, during one of the "audiences" the tyrant organized to remind his subjects who was in charge. Gunlaug was large, imposing, with a presence that filled any space he occupied. His Divine memory, the Mantle of Fire, covered him like armor of flames that didn't burn but devoured anything that dared to touch it.
He knew Gunlaug possessed a transcendent echo that protected him. It wasn't just the Mantle. There was something else, something that covered him like an invisible cuirass, absorbing blows that should have killed him.
The Pale Needle could pierce that defense. Ash knew it. The bone fragment was sharp enough to cut reality itself. But the Needle was small. A single-strike weapon. If he missed, if Gunlaug dodged or his echo deflected it...
He needed something more insidious.
Ash checked the pockets of his armor and took out a small piece of carefully wrapped cloth. Inside, meticulously preserved, was the pollen from the red flower. He had collected it months ago, in his early days at the Dark Castle, when he still didn't know what he might use it for.
Now he knew.
The red flower pollen was poisonous. Not a lethal poison, but something worse: a toxin that attacked the will, that clouded the mind, that made the body move slower than the mind commanded. In a fight against someone like Gunlaug, a fraction of a second of delay could mean the difference between life and death.
If the pollen failed, he had his echoes. The Black Steel Crow was fast, lethal at close range. And the Black Knight... well, the Black Knight was an unstoppable force when ordered to attack. His Flaw, Clemency, could be a limitation, but inverted with Weaver's Mask...
Ash put the pollen away again.
Dirty tricks. That was what he needed. Gunlaug was stronger, more experienced, with an army at his back and a Divine memory that made him practically invincible. Ash wasn't going to win a fair fight against him.
But he didn't have to. He just had to create an opportunity for Nephis to do her thing.
He heard footsteps.
Ash looked up and saw Cassie approaching. She used her Silent Dancer to guide herself, her feet adjusting to the irregularities of the ground with a grace that only someone who had learned to live in darkness could possess.
She stopped a few meters from him, and Ash noticed a small smile adorning her face. It wasn't the polite smile she used with strangers, nor the forced smile she sometimes showed when she was worried. It was a genuine smile. Rare. Valuable.
"Ash," she said. "Tell me a story."
Ash blinked at the sudden request.
"You know I tell stories on special occasions, right?"
"Yes, I know," Cassie replied, tilting her head slightly. "But this is a special moment. Soon we'll all be back in the Waking World."
"Uhm..."
Ash watched her for a moment. She spoke with such certainty. Soon we'll all be back. As if it were a fact, not a possibility. As if Nephis's plan were already a reality, not a hope.
But maybe that was the difference between him and Cassie. He saw all the ways things could go wrong. She saw the only way they could go right.
"I suppose I can make an exception," he said finally. "But it'll be a short story, alright?"
"Yes."
Cassie nodded and sat on the ground, legs crossed, hands resting on her knees. Her blind face turned toward him as if she could see him, as if the story he was about to tell were a landscape only she could imagine.
Ash took a deep breath.
"Once upon a time, there was a man who dreamed of being the greatest runner of all time," he began. "Not because he wanted to win races or break records. He just liked to run. He liked the feeling of the wind in his face, the rhythm of his feet against the ground, the way his breathing became deep and steady."
Cassie smiled.
"So he ran. Every day, from sunrise to sunset. He ran through fields and mountains, through forests and deserts, through city streets he had never visited. Wherever he went, he ran."
"One day, while running, someone joined him. A curious man who wanted to know where he was going. The runner didn't ask who he was or why he was following him. He just kept running, and the man followed."
"Over time, more people joined. Everyone wanted to run with him, everyone wanted to reach the same destination, though no one knew what it was. And so, without realizing it, the solitary runner found himself leading a crowd. Everyone ran together, day after day, following a path that only he seemed to know."
"But over time, the crowd began to dwindle. Some grew tired and stopped. Others found other paths that seemed more interesting to them. Others simply disappeared, and no one knew where they had gone. And in the end, only two remained: the runner and the first man who had joined him."
"One day, while running, the man asked him: 'Why do we run? What is our destination?'"
Ash paused. The wind blew through the ruins, carrying the scent of old stone and mist.
"The runner thought long about the question. So long that he almost stopped. But in the end, he answered: 'I don't know why I run. But I like to run. I feel like I'm progressing.'"
"The man, confused, asked again: 'Progressing at what? Why do you run if you have no destination?'"
"The runner smiled and said: 'Progressing in life. I don't need a destination or a goal. I run to progress in life, to be better every day. Progress is its own destination.'"
Cassie went very still.
"The curious man, upon hearing that answer, stopped. He watched the runner keep running, disappearing into the distance. Then he looked back, at the path he had traveled, and then he understood."
"He understood that progress was a personal race, self-imposed. A race that only you, and no one else, can run. You decide if you keep progressing to become better, or if you remain static where you are and don't progress in life."
Ash leaned back against the wall.
"End of story."
Cassie remained silent for a long moment. Then, softly, she asked:
"Was the runner still running? At the end, I mean."
"I suppose so," Ash replied. "In the end, it doesn't matter if you have a destination or a goal. What matters is keeping moving. Because the moment you stop, the moment you decide you've progressed enough..."
"What happens?"
"You die. Not physically. But something inside you goes out. And it never comes back on."
Cassie nodded slowly.
"Why did you tell me that story?"
Ash looked at her. Her dull eyes, her small, serious face. She was fourteen years old, but she seemed much older. Everyone here seemed much older.
"Because you asked me to," he answered. "And because I think you needed to hear it."
"And you?" Cassie asked. "Do you keep running?"
Ash thought of the two soul cores beating inside him. He thought of Thrill, locked in her prison of mist, furious and hungry. He thought of the fragments, the mask, the red flower pollen he kept in his pocket.
He thought of the light at the end of the tunnel he had never seen but knew existed.
"Yes," he said finally. "I keep running."
Cassie smiled. She stood up and approached him. For a moment, Ash thought she was going to hug him, but she only placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Then run faster," she said. "We'll follow you."
And she left, leaving Ash alone with his thoughts.
He watched her walk away, her light steps on the bare stone, and for a moment he wondered if he had ever had the luxury of being as optimistic as her.
But then he remembered that optimism wasn't a luxury. It was a choice.
And Cassie had chosen to believe.
Ash sighed and looked toward the horizon, where the nameless sun began its slow descent. Somewhere in the Dark City, Gunlaug was sitting on his throne, surrounded by lackeys and captains.
Somewhere, Nephis was planning his downfall.
And somewhere, Sunny was doing his part to prepare for what was coming.
Everyone was running. Everyone was progressing. Each in their own way, each for their own reasons.
And Ash was no exception. He would keep progressing for his own reasons. He would keep moving forward.
---
(A/N: Well, here we are back with daily chapters of this story to finish the first volume. If you find the protagonist's shift a bit strange, it's because I'm still adapting to writing him and capturing his essence. Anyway, tomorrow night I'll post two chapters.)